s. And they go
walking with soft, shambling steps from ledge to ledge. Even the least
of them have no fear of any height. Their children of an evening will
sit and eat their suppers, their spindle legs dangling over a depth so
extreme that no Munza-mulgar could see to the bottom.

Left alone, the Mulla-mulgars, who had been climbing many hours now, and
felt stiff in legs and back, were glad to roll themselves over in the
flealess sand of the cavern, and soon were all three asleep.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XV

When Nod opened his eyes beneath the vast blue arch of the cavern, not a
sign of the Men of the Mountains was to be seen. He sat for awhile
watching his brothers humped up in sleep on the floor, and wondering
rather dismally when they should have done with their troubles and come
to the palace of their Uncle Assasimmon. He was blained and footsore;
his small bones stuck out beneath his furry skin, his hands were cracked
and scorched. And the keen high air of Arakkaboa made him gasp at every
breath.

When Thumb awoke they sat quietly mumbling and talking together a while.
Beyond the mouth of the cavern stood the beehive-houses of the
Mountain-mulgars, each in its splash of lengthening shadow. Day drew on
to evening. An eagle squalled in space. Else all was still; no living
thing stirred. For these Men of the Mountains have no need to keep
watch. They sleep secure in their white huts. None can come in, and
none go out but first they must let down their ladders. Thumb scrambled
up, and he and Nod hobbled off softly together to where the cataract
hung like a shrine of hoarfrost in pillars of green ice from the frozen
snows above. The evening was filled with light of the colour of a
flower. Even the snow that capped the mountains was faintest violet and
rose, and far in the distance, between the peaks of Zut and misty Solmi,
stretched a band of darkest purple, above which the risen moon was
riding in pale gold. And Nod knew that there, surely, must be Battle's
Sea. He pointed Thumb to it, and the two Mulgars stood, legs bandy,
teeth shining, eyes fixed. Nod gazed on it bewitched, till it seemed he
almost saw the foam of its league-long billows rolling, and could catch
in his thin round ear the roar and surge Battle had so often told him
of. "Ohe! if my Oomgar were but with me now!" he thought. "How would his
eyes stare to see his friend the sea!"

But the Men of the Mountains were now be